


if there's a hell for lovers

by earlofcardigans



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-04
Updated: 2011-10-04
Packaged: 2017-10-24 07:45:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlofcardigans/pseuds/earlofcardigans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's based off <a href="http://tsn-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/6467.html?thread=13418051#t13418051">this prompt</a> but since I can't read, not all of them are post-settlement.</p><p>title from 'the damn thing's over' by empires</p>
            </blockquote>





	if there's a hell for lovers

1\. Dustin

"So what are we staring at here?" Dustin sat down next to Eduardo, his knee touching Eduardo's thigh. "Is there a Rorshach ink blot thing in the back of Mark's head? Should I be worried if I see like, a Decepticon wearing a sombrero in his hair?"

Eduardo just looked at him. What was he supposed to say to that anyway? Dustin shrugged, but he hit Eduardo several times with his knee. Eduardo knew he was there.

"Sometimes I wonder if maybe I think hard enough he'll grown eyes out of the back of his head. He can multitask better that way." Eduardo shifted so he could put his head in Dustin's lap and look at something other than the back of Mark's messy, eyeless head.

Dustin picked his fingers through Eduardo's hair. "That would be weird. And kinda gross. If you really think about it."

Eduardo didn't look at him when he said, "Sometimes I wish I had met you first."

Dustin pulled his hand back; Eduardo's hair felt weird. "You did."

Eduardo sighed. His first instinct was to apologize, but then Dustin put his fingers back through his hair.

 

2\. Su

"Do you mind if I sit here? It's just." The girl broke off when Eduardo looked up at her. She gestured around the at all the other people waiting for their flight.

"No. Sorry. Let me move all this." Eduardo shoved his coat behind him, let his bag drop to the ground.

"Are you going to San Francisco?" The girl turned something small over and over between her hands.

"Not really. Are you?" Eduardo wanted to know. He wanted to know her name, he wanted to tell her why he was going, he wanted someone to take his side in things. Her eyes said she would. Her small, uneasy smile told him she needed to as much as he wanted it.

"It's my last stop. Then I am going home." She glanced at him and away, and Eduardo wanted to capture it, hold on to it.

He knew he was tired, knew that his balance was shaky, and maybe it was why, but he sat in the uncomfortable connected seat and tried to place this woman's accent, tried to place himself in it.

He could--picture himself anywhere but his destination. He almost asked: her name, where she was going, if he could fit inside her life, if she minded terribly.

"Are we going to be here a while, do you know?" She didn't turn to face him, hid behind the fall of her hair.

"Do you want to get coffee or something? We might be. I don't know."

"Coffee? Thank you." She touched the back of his hand. Eduardo curled his fingers into his palm. "But no. I think I'll just stay here."

 

3\. Erica

Eduardo didn't recognize her at first. Her hair was down and she seemed, less something than the last time he saw her, but more herself and beautiful. He couldn't figure it out. He almost wanted to talk to her, but she was Erica, and quite possibly associated him with everything wrong in her life.

He knew sometimes he did the same to her. It was perhaps unfair, but there it was.

By the time their two circles of people met up, Eduardo was tired and halfway to drunk and didn't care much what he said to Erica or anybody.

Erica looked over him, through him, then returned her eyes back to his face and smiled at him, slow-moving and secret.

If Eduardo thought about it, they did have a secret together. Erica couldn't look at him without seeing Mark. Eduardo couldn't look at her without seeing Mark, either.

It was all twisted around and under his ribcage, and he wanted to leave. Wanted to take Erica with him.

"How are you?" He asked her instead.

"Hi, Eduardo." She reached over and fixed his collar. He smiled his thanks, openly and without meaning behind it.

She didn't answer his question; he didn't want to say hello back. They were left standing close together, miles between them.

They could cross the only bridge, they could bring it up, move past it. Eduardo will get to see Erica laugh with her eyes bright.

He could very easily.

He stepped back, ran his hand down her arm, squeezed her fingers, watch her eyes close and reopen slowly.

It wasn't a bridge, more like a mountain, less like a mountain and more like a flying trapeze.

Eduardo squeezed her hand again, let go, and walked away.

 

4\. Chris

"You want pancakes?" Eduardo held up strawberries and syrup.

"You have stuff to make pancakes?" Chris smiled at him, teasing and familiar.

It had taken some time, and maybe it always would, but Eduardo had needed someone familiar to ground him, teach him how to be himself again. And maybe that wasn't Chris, but Chris knew who he was, where he had been, and it was a start.

"I like to eat." Eduardo shrugged.

Maybe it wasn't the right start. Maybe nothing would ever fit the same again.

"Eduardo." Chris stopped before the carpet met the tile in Eduardo's tiny space with his tiny table. When he looked up, Chris was staring at him. "You know that if you ever want to talk, about anything, regardless of before. I want to be that person. I can listen."

Eduardo stopped on the other side of Chris, matching his toes on the tile to Chris's on the carpet.

"I know. I just." Eduardo looked up, Chris stepped closer.

Chris kissed him. It wasn't passionate or hurried. It was an _i'm here for you_ and Eduardo took it. And then let it fall away.

"I know, too." Chris stepped around him and went to the stove. "Now. Someone promised me pancakes."

Eduardo went back to the strawberries and didn't think about everything he was missing.

 

5\. Aidan

"When are you going home?" Aidan leaned against Eduardo's balcony, swirled his drink until it caught the light, broke it apart.

"I am home." Eduardo shrugged.

"No. This is where you live, Eduardo." Aidan closed the distance between them, rested his head on Eduardo's shoulder. "When are you going home?"

Eduardo hadn't thought about that. He didn't want to think about how there wasn't exactly a home for him to go to anymore until he made a new one. He didn't want to have to make a new one. Not alone. He wondered idly if Aidan would go with him. It wouldn't be his home either.

They could make a new one.

"I'm not sure. I. There's nothing there. Not really." Eduardo looked out and down, at the people still crowding sidewalks and streets.

"Nothing here either."

Maybe that was an invitation or maybe it was a finality. Eduardo didn't want either. Not tonight.

 

1\. Mark

"Eduardo. Hi."

He looks up to see Mark standing close to him but too far away, tucked into himself. Eduardo smiles to himself at how Mark looks the same and uncomfortable.

"Hello, Mark." He's not sure what he should be saying. He knew there was a possibility that he would see Mark.

"It's good to see you." Mark stares at him. Eduardo isn't unnerved by it. He knows how Mark is, he's missed it.

"Can we. Can I talk to you later? Will you save time for me?"

"Of course," he answers. It's so easy to slip back in, except for how he's not the same, except for how Mark is asking.

He walks around the room and chats inanely with people he knows, with people they both know. Some even ask him if this is their comeback dinner. They saw him talking to Mark. There is no such thing as a comeback from something you never had. But Eduardo isn't about to tell these people that. They don't deserve his private life, their gossip hands all over a new story.

Mark finds him again when everything is almost over, when it's time to collect his coat and his driver and go back to his empty hotel and then back on a full plane and then back to another empty apartment. Eduardo still isn't sure there is anything here for him.

He smiles at Mark, though. Mark smiles back at him, genuinely for once.

"I'm not good at small talk. You know that already. But we can have that if it's all you want to tell me about." Mark shoves his hands in his pockets. Eduardo watches him and thinks about how different he is now. Not Mark, even though that looks to be true, as well. He can appreciate Mark as someone that he used to know, someone he made a bad business decision with, someone that he still finds intellectually fascinating.

"Is there something specific you want to ask me? I don't mind." And the truth is that he doesn't. Never has.

"I got a dog." Mark stares at the floor. Eduardo doesn't laugh.

"Yeah? Do you have a big backyard or is it a house dog?" Eduardo isn't sure if this counts as small talk, but Mark's face changes, and he tells Eduardo about his ferocious plant-eating dog.

Eduardo laughs then. "It's good to see you, Mark."

"Can I see you again? I mean. You can come to the house, meet the dog." Mark shrugs. It doesn't feel that impersonal anymore. "I can cook. I've been taking classes. I'm not great. And I'll probably never get around to the idea of meatloaf, but."

"I'm not in town for much longer." Eduardo is disappointed.

"Next time then? Or you could." Mark trails that off and looks at him. Eduardo wants to fill in all the blanks with himself. He could. But he really can't. Except for how he has to try. He's tired of being everything at once and still feeling empty.

"I could. Next time." Disappointment isn't something to live on, neither is regret.

And Eduardo has missed so many things.

"When is next time?" Mark asks him. Eduardo isn't sure if his voice is shaking or Eduardo just can't hear anymore.

"You tell me."

And he makes a promise to be there. For both of them.


End file.
